


resonance

by clairelutra (exosolarmoon), sharpshooting



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chess, Developing Friendships, F/M, Feelings Realization, Pining, Relationship Study, where lance was frozen along with allura and coran
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 18:11:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15148925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exosolarmoon/pseuds/clairelutra, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharpshooting/pseuds/sharpshooting
Summary: An Altean!Allurance canon 'verse AU.He was her age, give or take a decade or two, and she’d never spoken to him once before.Do we have similar interests?she wondered endlessly. Did they know the same places, miss the same food, like the same music? Did he remember that one awful ball where Lady Aline had made everyone wear pink because other colors were too gaudy for her tastes? Had he ever found that onelovelylittle glade behind the library? Had he been as excited as she to hear that The Quiznackers would be playing at the capital?And yet, as eager as he was to fling inappropriate comments at everysingleother female they came across, he could barely trade pleasantries with her.She’d never thought she’dwantthe attention of someone like him.It was… infuriating.





	resonance

**Author's Note:**

> actually semi-edited? only a few lines for better flow, but still
> 
> this was done for the anon prompt: Allurance - teasing

“Why so serious, guardsman?”

Lance flinched, startled out of his life-or-death contemplation of the chessboard, and blushed. “Uh, you know, just… considering my moves!”

“Hm,” Allura agreed, contemplating the boy across from her.

Lance was something of an enigma—not in and of himself, he was cripplingly transparent in every way—but in their relationship, stilted as it was, and how she felt about him.

There were three Alteans aboard the Castle of Lions, and they were likely the last Alteans in the universe. There was her, of course—crown princess, heir to the throne of a kingdom of ghosts—and there was Coran, her father’s trusted advisor and the man who’d raised her from a young age.

And then there was Lance.

 _Why_ he was one person to join her and Coran in the cryopods was a mystery. He was a lowly guardsman, not even yet a _captain_ , just someone who’d stood beside her seat at important dinners and patrolled the castle perimeters. He wasn’t a _terrible_ shot, and he did know how to use a broadsword, but there had been so many better candidates, so many other warriors and champions and masters that her father could have preserved for her protection.

But no, here was Lance, the _only_ person the Blue Lion had yet accepted—and he was an _idiot_ by most all accounts. He was a hopeless flirt, had no sense of gravitas or tact, and spent more time getting on his team’s nerves than he did fighting the war against Zarkon.

His presence baffled her—almost as much as how intensely she wished she could connect with him.

He was her age, give or take a decade or two, and she’d never spoken to him once before. _Do we have similar interests?_ she wondered endlessly. Did they know the same places, miss the same food, like the same music? Did he remember that one awful ball where Lady Aline had made everyone wear pink because other colors were too gaudy for her tastes? Had he ever found that one _lovely_ little glade behind the library? Had he been as excited as she to hear that The Quiznackers would be playing at the capital?

And yet, as eager as he was to fling inappropriate comments at every _single_ other female they came across, he could barely trade pleasantries with her.

She’d never thought she’d want the attention of someone like him.

It was… infuriating.

She’d finally managed to convince him to play this human game called ‘chess’ (a bit like ‘war’ but with different rules and the assumption that all the pieces were grounded), which was… well. It was better than nothing.

Very gingerly, Lance picked up his queen… and placed it directly in the strike range of one of her pawns.

This was the fourth time he’d thrown the game to her.

Irritated, she ignored that and put one of her bishops right in between his two rooks.

Lance regarded her move, expression caught halfway between consternation and honest _panic_.

“…Tell you what,” Allura said, thoughtful as she looked over the board. “Let’s have a bet.”

“A bet?”

He didn’t have to sound _that_ alarmed.

“A bet,” Allura repeated firmly. “If I win, you’ll do one thing—any one thing—that I ask.”

Lance, frowning, opened his mouth.

“And if _you_ win,” she continued, mercilessly cutting him off, “I’ll do any one thing _you_ want.”

His face twitched like it wasn’t sure what emotion it was supposed to show. “I… Okay?.”

Satisfied, Allura relaxed in her seat. “Good.”

Now… maybe, _just_ maybe, she would be allowed to lose.

* * *

She was not allowed to lose.

It was her turn for consternation, staring at the stone-carved king piece that rested cool in her palm. She really _had_ been counting on being able to tease him, or maybe convincing him to get her to do something ridiculous, or maybe just… get him to prove to her that he wasn’t someone she wanted to associate herself with at all.

Anything, anything _at all_ beside this _damnable stalemate_.

In her peripheral vision, she saw Lance glance between her palm and her face, waiting.

Vindictively, Allura wondered how he would take it if she just didn’t acknowledge the bet at all, or if she insisted on two out of three. They were going to be stuck in dead space for another three vargas—surely…

“Your request, your highness?” Lance prompted, as deferential as he _always was_ with her, and Allura’s patience snapped.

“Hop in a circle three times while you hold your right foot in your left hand, and declare Lord Blaytz as the best Black Paladin there ever was.”

“…What?”

Allura lifted her chin, smug and supercilious and a little vindictive. “In front of _all_ the other paladins.”

_“What?”_

Allura clapped the king back onto the board, standing in one smooth motion. “You really should have just won,” she sniffed, tucking her disappointment away, “but I suppose there’s always next time.”

Lance looked so lost she might’ve been inclined to take pity if she’d been a little less frustrated.

“Come. We should find the others.”

“Your Highness—”

“Yes?”

There was an odd look on his face. “Did-Did you _want_ me to win?”

The question staggered her a little, broke her stride. She blew out a breath, and found herself reluctantly admitting, “I… I wanted to be taken seriously.”

It came out sulkier than she intended it to, but Lance was looking at her like he’d never seen her before.

“But, wasn’t I…?” he started, then trailed off and blinked.

Allura was too well-bred to squirm at the following silence, but that didn't make it any less awkward.

“…Oh,” Lance finally said, a revelation in a word. A slight, curious smile crossed his face, one that made her heart do something strange. “Okay. I’ll remember that.”

“Oh. Well. Good.”

Her tongue felt awkward in her mouth, her cheeks tingly. _How unbecoming._

“…So," and his mouth curved into a smile she felt in the pit of her stomach, "when’s the rematch?”

“After your grand performance will do,” Allura informed him, tasting sweet victory when he cringed and groaned. The door hissed open as they approached it.

“I am _so_ getting you back for this,” he muttered under his breath, and that tasted even sweeter.

“Good luck,” she singsonged as they approached the bridge. She grinned over her shoulder. “You’ll need it.”

“…Yeah,” he agreed slowly, a softer kind of realization in his voice. The rush of the double doors opening nearly overrode his quiet, “Thanks.”

That moment in particular stuck with her even after Lance held up his end of the bet, after their systems were all back online, after they set a path to the next Galra stronghold.

She couldn’t put her finger on _why_ it felt so important, but… well.

Lance wasn’t holding her at arms’ length anymore, and that was all she’d wanted.


End file.
